


"I want to hear you sing."

by anubisfkr



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Porn with Feelings, Rare Pairings, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anubisfkr/pseuds/anubisfkr
Summary: He tugs at her hand, pulling it away from her mouth, as he whispers in her ear, voice rumbling in his chest. “I want to hear you sing.”And she does.
Relationships: lon'qu & azura | aqua, lon'qu/azura | aqua
Kudos: 8





	"I want to hear you sing."

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I write Lon'qu and Azura, and we accidentally started shipping them (we call them Lonra), so... here's a drabble I wrote :')
> 
> Admittedly, it was shorter at first, so I lengthened it... kind of... enjoy!

A waning crescent in the sky, and a sliver of moonlight painting the room and the side of her face, she holds a hand out to him. Azura does not speak when she asks—do you also ask a panther to approach you?—she learned long ago that words are not necessary for communication. Instead, gazing up into dark eyes that hide a thousand words she may never hear—honey catches moonlight and for a moment, just for a moment, there are stars in her eyes—she asks to touch him. (She yearns for the touch of another human being, a reminder that she is alive and that, despite how many times instinct tries to tell her, she is not alone.) Lon’qu takes it, albeit hesitantly and slowly—and when he flinches, his lips press into a thin line—before relaxing, their digits intertwining together. He leans down, and slowly, a bit awkwardly, he kisses her. 

She’s tasted his lips before. Chapped, a little bit dry with a distinct yet unremarkable taste. It’s the distant smell of herbs mixed with frozen earth and crisp winter air—all muted, yet all still present enough for her to recognize it. As the kiss becomes several, his hands are gentle when he moves them to her arms.

Lon’qu takes his time. There’s no rush, not for either of them. Her fingers hold onto his forearms, curling under his warm gauntlets. The sliver of moonlight has lengthened by the time she pulls away—like breaking the surface of water, she gasps for air—and invites him to her bed with a tug on his shirt. As if a sailor caught in her song, he follows, eyes trained on her the entire time. She lays down, head resting on her pillow, and he, with one knee on the bed, and his other foot still on the floor, balances himself over her, never fully laying on her.

Azura asks if he’s okay with doing anything, that she won’t do anything he doesn’t want to. And he replies with a short “I’m all right.” (Short his answer may be, but he’s always been straight to the point, never bothering to dance around the point.)

Her eyes jump between his deceptively cold gaze and his lips. Her hand goes out to touch his chest. Through such thick fabric, she can still feel his rapid heartbeat. "Then..." she murmurs. "Touch me."

Their lips meet again, this time with more energy than before, yet still as slow. Lon'qu pulls at the fabric of her dress. The blue bow on her hip comes undone, and just as easily, the rest of her clothes follow suit, ending up pushed off the bed and into a pile on the floor. Azura tugs at his coat—a plea that she cannot be the only revealing every parts of themselves. He obliges, peeling off his coat, unwrapping his sash to reveal scars and defined muscles on his abdomen and chest. The result of decades worth of training.

His hands travel. He takes time to explore her body—her toned calves, soft thighs, perky breasts, and smooth stomach. He notices that she's sensitive, her toes curling if he uses his teeth on her nipples; and she's as curious as he, running her hands over his biceps and gripping his forearms. (He's watched her bring down a beast with no more than a swing of her lance, and yet she's still not strong enough to cause him any kind of discomfort when her nails prick at his skin.)

At first, it's silent save for her uneven breathing and huffs of air, moans that she mutes with her hand, lest she wishes for the entire monastery to hear latest love song. His dark eyes watch the way a moan leaves her body. It's like a music note: pretty and addictive.

He tugs at her hand, pulling it away from her mouth, as he whispers in her ear, voice rumbling in his chest. “I want to hear you sing.”

And she does. Softly, occasionally stifled by her hand or his lips, Azura sings for him.

It's fascinating, he thinks, to hear one woman make such lovely sounds when there's no music to accompany her. A couple of fingers slip inside her, and the notes go up an octave. Her chest rising and falling at uneven intervals, she gasps and moans, her legs bending and unbending when he adds another finger. Azura's fingers tangle themselves in her hair, and one hand grasps the arm he's using to prop himself up. A conductor and an audience member all the same, he listens to her serenade him.

His eyebrow quirks, just barely, when Lon'qu notices that her notes rise in pitch. He increases the tempo and adds another finger. A silent invitation for her to reveal her finale to him. 

The climax arrives in the form of a fermata, her voice echoing off the stone walls and hands grasping at anything and everything. It's a euphoric feeling, one that causes her to relax into the mattress while she watches him with half-lidded eyes lean down and press a gentle kiss into her neck.

Lips move to hover over her ear. His breath is warm, and his voice is low when he says, "How about an encore?"


End file.
